Pulse
by SavvySlick
Summary: Dorian's waited twelve long years for this moment.


The concept of a pulse is a funny thing, really. Your own personal rhythm, beating and throbbing through your veins, heart, and body. A perpetual drumbeat, pumping life through yourself with each beat.

Or, well… Perpetual until you die, anyways. From then on no one really expects much from your pulse anymore.

So, if someone say… Wandered into a graveyard with the expectations of making the long dead breathe again- live again- you'd probably think of them rather insane. Delusional.

But, there Dorian stood, hands with practically a knuckle whitening grip on the lute. The golden lute. Cadence was beside him, though he could only really see her from the corner of his eye. He was far too focused on the grave they both stopped in front of.

Melody's grave, of course; her date of birth, death, and name were still engraved on it, still clear as day (if not only slightly more worn than he had last remembered it).

For a second, he parted from the sight, just to examine the cherished item he held. An object of literal legend… What he spent so many years searching for… Researching… Admittedly, even lusting after (though he wasn't quite sure he would want to consider it that- or even think about that at the moment).

All the years… Years of searching, scavenging… Sleepless nights… And not to mention his time in the crypt- however long that might have been (Cadence had told him two years. Though, in his perspective, it barely felt like a few days, at most. Barely felt like anything at all).

All of that time… Everything leading to that moment, right now… It'd all be worth it. He knew it would. Melody was worth every second of it. Every bead of sweat, ache of exhaust… Though, it would have been preferable if it didn't include nearly bludgeoning his own daughter to death. Though, considering he wasn't in control of his own mind, perhaps that bit didn't count…

It wasn't something he could deal with now, anyways. It was a moment of past- however recent said past might have been. Cadence was more than some red stain beaten into the floor, Dorian was more than a mindless, aggressive pawn, and neither of them found themselves slaves to the beating of their own hearts.

There wasn't anything else in the way. Except for the cover of Melody's coffin.

Both of them found themselves still, silent before it. It wasn't as though the Melody they knew would be underneath it. She most certainly would have decayed by now.

"... It's not gonna be pretty under there, dad…" Cadence spoke up, tentatively breaking the silence at last, "... She's not gonna… You know…"

"I know, Cadence…"

"And you still wanna…" She trailed off, nervously licking her bottom lip. There was something in the way she spoke that cued Dorian into the fact that she still didn't really understand what he was planning on doing. He didn't blame her, of course- there was a lot he hadn't said… In fact, there was nothing he had said, if he could correctly recall, about the abilities of the lute.

Kneeling gently beside the wooden coffin, he inhaled, holding the lute gently under his arm, pausing for only a moment to examine his shaking hands. So long… He had waited so long…

His nails found the crease in between the lid and base of Melody's casket, and with a soft grunt, lifted it up and off, revealing whatever figure was left underneath.

As they predicted, it wasn't the prettiest sight. There was barely anything left of her… Just scraps and stains from decaying flesh, clinging to a skeleton in dirtied, dusty clothing; all of which had been nibbled on by whatever detestable insects managed to worm their way through to her body.

"_Oh, Melody…_"

He couldn't help it. It didn't matter how many corpses he had seen shambling through the crypt, or how many skeletons he had practically lived amongst in his days of being a pawn of the Necrodancer. Seeing her in such a state as this was close to too much for Dorian to bare…

Even the sight of her pale, sickly form would have been better than this, he figured. Not by too much, but better. At least she would have had… Well, skin… And eyes…

By the sound of an almost breathless sort of gasp from behind him, it was quite clear Cadence wasn't fairing any better than he. It would be fine… Soon enough- he had the lute in his possession, after all… There wasn't anything holding his back.

"Dad, I..." Dorian paused, looking up at her daughter, whose eyes were rather wide with a certain emotion he wasn't sure he knew how to read. Though, in honesty, it was difficult to tell whether Cadence herself knew how to feel about the entire ordeal... Reanimation... Playing with the dead... To a degree it didn't feel quite right.

Would the lute make her look just like before? Or would it only work with what it had? She wasn't so sure she was prepared to see the skeleton of her mother stand up and walk towards her in such a manner.

Cadence missed her. She missed her greatly. Though... Staring down at her body like this... Examining her decaying form... It was...

Well, she didn't quite know. Discomforting would be an understatement, but that was the best way to put it.

Again, her gaze flickered between her father and... Mother... And then, eventually, to the lute Dorian had picked up again, as he pulled himself to a stand, looming above the open coffin with a certain determined look in his eye.

"Yes, Cadence?"

A pause,

"... Nothing... Never mind... We came this far, right...?" She tried for a smile of some sort... Something of encouragement, at least... Though it came out a little more forced- more meek than she had intended it.

Despite, Dorian noticed the effort. Though, all he could respond was a nod. He found his throat quite suddenly dry, and his hands continued to quake, in what he could only assume to be anticipation. After so many years... They were here. Standing before her, lute in hand. Just like he assured her.

Everything would be fine.

Dorian never had been all too skilled at the lute. But he took a glance down at the position of his fingers, inhaled until his lungs felt full to bursting, and struck a particularly powerful cord. Automatically, the golden lute was surrounded with color- streaks of bright purple which danced and weaved its way around it, powerful, and practically pulsing with the same rhythm the crypt seemed to radiate.

"_**RISE!**_"

In honesty, his voice- which suddenly grew more loud and powerful than she had heard him speak in a long, long time- admittedly caught Cadence a little off guard. Part of it didn't even sound like his own.

The ribbons of light curled like snakes, dancing and weaving as they found their target, moving from the lute's radius to that of the deceased, swiveling as if sentient, embracing the skeleton and bathing it in its glow- which now became almost painful to the eye.

And then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Faded in an instant into nothing, the only source of light now coming from the moon.

Dorian didn't quite realize he had been holding his breath, blinking to clear his vision (which had now begun swimming with purple swiveling spots).

There was no skeleton.

There was skin. Flesh. A body. A face. There was a person.

There was Melody.

He stood there for a moment or two, paralyzed at the mere sight. It was as if nothing had happened to her at all. Her eyes had been thrown open, as pure and lively an olive as he could last recall them. There wasn't the faintest tinge of illness left remaining on her skin, either... It was as if nothing at all had become of her.

She didn't speak. He didn't speak, either- and neither did Cadence. The three of them simply stared, all frozen with the wonders of the lute's capabilities.

And then, Melody began gasping. Not in excitement. In pain- or if not, something of similar sort. As if she was being choked.

Of course, as one might expect, it wasn't all to pleasant to the ear.

Melody's skin began to lose it's color, as well as its weight, shrinking and clinging to her slowly weakening muscles. Through her rasps, she barely choked out her first sentence in twelve whole years, nearly lost on the breeze as soon as the words left her lips,

"_The lute... The lute..._"

Fumbling to reposition his hands, Dorian quickly played a few more notes, doing his best to make sure he actually played the correct ones. Through the shaking of his hands, as well as his lack in such a skill, it wasn't like it came naturally to him.

"I'm sorry-!"

His first words to her in twelve years was an apology. It wasn't quite what he had planned, if he was honest with himself. The response was almost delayed, Dorian realized, somewhere subconsciously.

Melody was here. Alive. And the more she played, the better she seemed to grow, until her body had returned to its healthy stature, breathing growing softer, gentler again...

Melody was alive. After being gone for so long. Dead for so long.

And all he could do was sit there dumbfounded and stare at her- only really realizing his mouth was half open from his previous words when it began to grow dry.

He just barely managed to turn his head in time to see Cadence's similarly agape mouth twitch, twisting into a smile of disbelief, of sorts. And, soon after, she practically bolted to the side of the coffin, staring at the newly alive Melody, resting in it as one would rest in bed.

"... Mom..."

Melody's eyes shifted, working with what light she had been given in an attempt to make out the shadow that crouched down to examine her.

"Cadence...?"

She had grown. Her features were less roundish- less youngish, now. Her face was more defined, body taller, stronger. And her voice had changed, too. To the point of being recognizable for a few moments to her own mother's ear.

As if predicting she might have had trouble, Cadence nodded in confirmation, extending a hand (which, like Dorian's, just couldn't quite stop quavering) to touch against her mother's- just to see. To truly see that she was alive. Here.

Her hand was cold, but of course it would have been. Just the fact alone that she touched it was enough to send a powerful wave of emotion wracking through her body. A minute ago, at most, Melody was nothing more than a corpse, devoid of any life. Of any pulse.

And now, she was awake. Breathing. Just as alive as the two of them.

Not only Cadence's hands were shaking now. But she managed to keep herself composed, to some degree, turning her gaze away from her mother only to glance towards her father, who continued to pluck on the strings of the lute, approaching at an almost nervous sort of pace.

It was a lot easier for Melody to identify him.

"Dorian..." Her eyes then flickered to the instrument in his hands, which almost seemed to glow with its own light, refusing what pale rays the moon casted onto the rest of the graveyard,

"The lute... You..." Cogs turned slowly in her mind. Attempting to process the concept of your own reanimation- especially right after being reanimated in the first place- was certainly no easy task. She couldn't quite figure where to begin.

"You... How long has..." Again, she made some sort of vague attempt, but found herself incapable. Silently- well aware of the two pairs of eyes examining her every move- she shakily raised one arm. It was free from any bruising, injuries, or paleness... Free from any rotting, either.

It was as if nothing had become of her at all.

Though she was familiar with the abilities of the lute, she never figured how it must have felt to be under its effect... To see yourself so suddenly- so perfectly returned to full health.

"_Melody..._" It had only now come to her attention how weak his voice was... And looking up to scrutinize him a little more, it wasn't just his voice which had changed.

His own skin had grown a pale, sickly shade- much like her own when she was ill, Melody connected, with only a slightly sickening feeling to accompany such a thought. His eyes, though bright, and shining, and tears with what she could only assume to be glee, held weary bags under them.

Not to mention his frame was littered with lacerations and scars. Cadence's, too, now that she was scrutinizing.

Just how long had she been gone for...

Just how long had he been searching for that thing.

Of course, she didn't immediately get any sort of answer, as she couldn't bring herself to speak the questions aloud. Not yet, anyways.

A hand raised, clinging to the side of the coffin she had resided in for years, now, and with only little strain she had pulled herself up. Blood rushed to her head almost immediately, leaving a sickening, disorienting feeling remaining where most of her questions used to be- and both figures backed up a step or two, just to give her a little more room to breathe, now that she could.

The lute filled the silence there otherwise would have been.

"Melody... H... How do you feel...?" Dorian's voice wavered as he spoke, almost painfully focused on the tune of the lute he held, fingers which were way better suited for weapons delicately plucking the instrument's strings.

Sitting upright in her own casket now, Melody could only really ask that question to herself.

"I... I feel fine...?"

She wasn't quite sure.

She was alive. Reanimated, with that cursed object she half begged him not to seek- but alive. Woozy from spending who knows how long in a small wooden box, wasting away for the maggots to pick at- but alive.

"Cadence... May you take the lute a moment..." It wasn't quite a question. Admittedly, Dorian was afraid to play it for much longer. Any second, now, he'd miss a note... Any second he'd grow to hasty- and the last thing he wished for was to hurt her again... Not right after she had her... After she was right there, before the both of them, breathing, and alive.

Carefully, Cadence had obeyed, accepting the hold of the lute she previously had wielded, maybe an hour or so ago, gently dancing her fingers over the strings. Even through her own emotion- the fluttering of her hands, and the rush of her thoughts- she was still better equipped to be the one playing the instrument than Dorian was.

With his hands free, he was free now to approach her again, standing before her figure not quite unlike how he stood over her in bed; except now she wasn't deathly ill, coughing, and aching, and dying.

He extended a hand for her to take without words (he didn't quite know what else he could possibly say. At the moment he was quite tongue tied). His hand was bruised, and calloused- a little more than she remembered it being.

Her hand still was cold (though not as cold as a corpse would have been), but Dorian didn't quite seem to mind, gently holding it as he helped pull her upwards to a stand- which proved to be quite helpful, considering Melody's legs nearly collapsed as soon as she attempted to use them again.

Probably the fault of not using them for... Well, for a while.

The hand Melody hadn't been holding crept carefully into her view, gently brushing a couple strands of hair behind her ear, eyes still wide in shock, even now.

He glanced up to make eye contact. Then down, breaking it soon after. She was right here... Right here, before him... The last time he felt her touch, she was in agony... Dying before him... And now she was here... Alive... Healthy... Just as he hoped she would be.

He couldn't help it. Couldn't quite stop himself from throwing his arms around her in that one moment- pulling her close (or, as close as he could with both her feet still in the coffin). Couldn't quite stop himself from repeating her name, again, and again, and again, the sound echoing on his lips, finding himself at a loss for anything else to say. Anything else to think but the fact that she was here. She was finally here again.

He couldn't quite stop the tears which wormed their way through his eyelids, tracing the outline of his face, the wet streaks glistening gently in the light of the moon. He could feel Melody's own hands raise, embracing him in return, delicate finger tracing shapes against his shoulders, down to the middle of his back, as he silently stood there, not bothering anymore with keeping his weeping inaudible.

And in that moment, he could have sworn he held her tight enough to feel the drumming pulse of her heart, beating in sync with the rhythm of the lute.


End file.
